


Everyone's Favorite Prince

by ArielAquarial



Series: The Angel of Thursday [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Wings, Anal Sex, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Arranged Marriage, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Blow Jobs, Fluff and Humor, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, No Refractory Period, Prince Castiel (Supernatural), Prince Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:29:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29643045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielAquarial/pseuds/ArielAquarial
Summary: The newlyweds are back from their honeymoon, and Cas is finally getting the chance to see the kingdom. The day starts off great, with a roll in the sheets and a nice trip to the market where he can finally meet his subjects, but he soon finds that his reputation proceeds him.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: The Angel of Thursday [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147520
Comments: 13
Kudos: 111





	Everyone's Favorite Prince

Castiel had only been married for three weeks, but he was sure that the sight of Dean stretching the kinks out of his muscles, back arched and miles of glorious skin glowing in the morning sun, would never get old. He didn’t know where to look first: the roundness of his ass, the freckles that dotted his entire body, the dark marks Cas had left on his neck, his broad shoulders, the crease of his ass above his thigh, his narrow hips… or his cock that was just barely beginning to soften from their lovemaking.

Cas was covered in his husband's cum from his bellybutton to his collarbone, and his cock was still slick with lube. While morning sex seemed to energize Dean, Cas wasn’t even close to getting ready for the day. He was sure that if he  _ did  _ attempt to stand, he would collapse to the floor in a boneless heap. Instead, he watched Dean move to the washstand and pour clean water into the basin. The sight of him running a linen cloth around his neck and down over his pebbled pink nipples sent a rush of blood straight to his dick. With barely a thought for the poor servant who was in charge of righting their room, he took the corner of the sheet and wiped his chest clean. That out of the way, he spread his legs and cupped himself, his other hand leaving a trail of fire over his nipples as he tweaked and pulled.

The movement caught Dean’s attention. “Calm down, Cas. You gotta give me at least fifteen more minutes.”

He just smiled and fondled himself some more, cradling his balls and giving them a squeeze. Dean eyed Cas’s filling cock and licked his lips. “God, you look so good on our bed.”

Castiel bit his lips and flared his wings, stretching until the tips brushed the floor. Dean froze in his washing and stared, lips parted with arousal. “Don’t do this to me. Fifteen minutes. Maybe ten. I’m not a young man anymore, Cas.”

He smiled and continued the slow, lazy strokes. Cas would wait, would  _ always _ wait for Dean, but in the meantime… His heart stuttered in his chest as he gave his hard cock a squeeze, eyes locked with his sexy and  _ still _ naked husband. He could see his own come on Dean’s inner thighs from where it had dripped from his hole, cool and tacky. He imagined Dean’s ass, still open and ready for him, and picked up the pace, amused at the glare it earned him.

“Fucking angels, man. Insatiable,” Dean groaned, rubbing his fingers through his tousled hair, dampening the tips into spikes. He glanced down at his still soft cock with an expression of betrayal. “Come on, man. Throw me a bone.”

Cas snorted in amusement. “Does speaking to it usually work?”

“You’d be surprised,” he quipped. “You and your damn angel stamina. If you start without me…”

“I can just take care of myself.”

“No way!” Dean finally got to work, scrubbing the half-dry come from between his legs, and then stomped to the bed. With less grace than Cas would expect from a prince, he flung himself onto the mattress and put his shoulders between Cas’s thighs, forcing them even further apart. Cas released his cock, and watched as Dean eyed the bobbing appendage with hunger. “We probably don’t have time for this. I promised I’d take you on a tour of—”

Cas, tired of all the talk when the head of his cock was so close to Dean’s mouth that he could feel his warm breath, grasped the base and angled it to Dean’s lips, silencing the man.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Dean murmured into the head, his lips brushing against the engorged flesh. He flicked his tongue out across the tip. “You still taste like cum.”

Castiel bit his bottom lip, groaning at his words. He wanted to thrust his hips up, forcing his cock past Dean’s sinful lips and shutting him up. He settled for saying, “You talk too much.”

Dean smirked and took the tip into his mouth, lips closing around the flushed head. He gave it a lazy suck, tongue running up and down the ridge of his frenulum, eyes flashing in amusement when Cas hissed with pleasure and had to look away from Dean’s expression or else his heart might beat out of his chest. Dean seemed content to stay right at the tip, with one hand on the rest of him, fingers just barely meeting around his girth. His other arm was thrown across Cas’s hips, holding him down, but it was Dean’s eyes that kept him pinned to the mattress. He could break Dean’s hold without even trying, no matter how hard his human husband tried to keep him there, but it was his blown pupils and utterly debauched expression as his mouth stretched around Cas’s cock that kept him where he was. His wings twitched and swayed, overcome with sensation and the need to move while the rest of him didn’t.

Finally—agonizingly slow—Dean began to move, taking as much of him into his mouth as he could, while his hand took care of the rest. It was loose,  _ too loose, _ but the warmth was exquisite. Lust drunk, it took Cas a moment to realize that Dean was toying with him. Taking his time until he was ready to join in so they could cross that glorious finish line together.

It was torturous. It was absolute heaven.

Dean hummed around him, sending vibrations echoing throughout his body and made even the tips of his fingers tingle. His wings thrashed, threatening to upend furniture, but they had carefully removed anything that could fall after the  _ first _ time Cas had shattered Dean’s crystal decanter of whisky. Now, his wings could flap and flare as much as they wanted, and Dean loved to watch the normally controlled angel absolutely lose it.

Finally, he picked up the pace and Cas almost lost it when Dean's lips tightened around his cock, finally giving him the pressure he needed. Dean’s hips shifted against the bed, shallowly thrusting against the mattress as his body finally began to respond to the arousal flowing through his veins. Cas’s hands made their way to Dean’s messy hair and ran through his soft locks until he was able to cup the base of his skull. He didn’t push Dean further down or even thrust up into his sinful mouth, he just ran his thumb over the sensitive skin behind his ear and murmured encouragements.

It could have been minutes or hours, but Dean eventually pulled off with a ragged gasp, his forehead resting against Cas’s hip as he tried to catch his breath. He was a second away from suggesting they switch positions, or even suck each other at the same time, but then Dean’s head popped up with determination in his eyes. Without any warning, Dean climbed to straddle Cas’s hips and gripped his cock. It only took him a few seconds to dip his fingers into the already-open container of lube and slickly stroke his husband’s cock. Cas watched Dean work in stunned silence, knowing he should tell him to stop, that they didn’t need to do this a _ gain _ , but before he could find the words in his lust-addled mind, Dean was leading the head of his cock to his entrance and bearing down.

Cas’s wings snapped out, sending a cool gust around the room and prickling their skin with goosebumps. Dean slowly sank down on Cas’s cock, chest heaving and mouth slack with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Cas grasped at his thighs, slowing his descent even further, marveling at the way his husband's back arched and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. He wanted to tell Dean how beautiful he was, how exquisite his ass felt as it squeezed rhythmically around him, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a garbled “Dean!”

Dean smirked as he glanced down at Cas, his face and chest flushed from the intensity of what he was feeling. “Fuck, look at you… I—” he cried out and dropped his head forward as his ass finally reached Cas’s hips. Dean took a moment to adjust, so Cas ran his hands up his husband’s sides, letting his calloused fingers brush against his sensitive skin. His wings joined in on the gentle exploration, brushing their feathered tips down his back until Dean felt like he was being touched nearly everywhere by Castiel.

With his knees tucked by Cas’s side, he rose slowly. Cas grabbed Dean's hips as he came to the top of his cock until only the head caught at his rim, then slowly lowered himself down, his thighs flexing from the effort. “Oh, god. That’s— Cas!"

“Are you ok?” he asked breathlessly, still cognizant enough that he knew this was the second time Dean’s been fucked this morning and if he wasn’t sore now, he would definitely feel it later. “We could— Ah! We could do something else.”

Dean rose again and paused before dropping; the constriction around his cock nearly did him in. “I’d tell you if I couldn’t handle it.”

Nails raked down his chest as he fucked into Dean, trying his hardest to take it slow and be gentle with him, but Dean wasn’t having any of that. He braced himself on Cas’s chest and moaned loudly, spurring him on with a muttered, “Yeah, fuck. Just like that. Come on baby! Fuck!”

Cas thrust harder, his hands tightening their hold on Dean’s hips and all but slamming him back down. He could feel his orgasm building, and with Dean cursing and moaning above him and his nails leaving raised tracks all over his chest, he wasn’t going to last much longer. He moved one of his hands to grasp Dean’s cock, jerking it roughly and throwing off the man’s rhythm. Dean looked pained, but he knew it was all pleasure, the same pleasure that was driving Cas. Using his wings, he forced himself to sit and wrapped his arms around Dean, holding his husband to his chest so he could thrust his cock as deep as possible. Dean’s cock rubbed wetly into Cas’s stomach, and it drove him to clutch Dean tighter, leaving no gap between their bodies and surrounding them with his wings.

It could have been the new angle, the pressure of Dean’s cock trapped between their bodies, or the sensation of feathers all over his body, but it only took a few thrusts more for Dean to go taunt and gasp out a high “Cas!” before he spilled between them. He groaned in relief. If Dean had waited any longer, Cas would have finished before him. He held Dean’s limp and sated body even tighter and thrust twice more before he shouted his release. With Dean sucking marks into his sweaty neck and humming in satisfaction, it took him longer to come down than normal.

He pried his wings open and Dean slipped bonelessly to the mattress, a smile on his flushed face.

Cas slumped down next to him on the bed, tucking his wings into his side so he could spoon his husband. “That was…”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

Dean laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Fuck. I don’t know how I’m going to keep up with that libido of yours…” But he was smiling ear to ear, and Cas could tell that Dean wasn’t considering it a hardship  _ at all. _

__

The truth of the matter was that Cas didn’t have a spectacularly high libido—it was all Dean. It was impossible not to look at the man and want to ravish him. From his trim hips and perky nipples to his playful smirk and bright eyes, everything about Dean called to him, and once Dean was in his arms… Well, both he  _ and _ Dean were at fault for the regularity of their lovemaking.

Cas stretched his whole body, throwing his hands over his head and flexing his feet, popping his back and working out the knots in his wings with a mighty flap. With a small grunt, he pushed himself up to sit and turned to his husband. “I’m ready for that tour, now.”

Dean groaned and threw his forearm over his eyes. “Babe. You just— We just— I can’t even feel my legs!”

With a grin on his face, Cas got up and made his way to the washstand for the discarded cloth. “Need I remind you that the tour was your idea?”

“Yeah, but round two was  _ your  _ idea.”

Finally clean of the cum on his stomach, he slipped on his silk banyan and walked to the wardrobe. Cas opened the double doors and stared forlornly at his sparse clothing. Between the wedding and honeymoon, he didn’t have the time to expand his wardrobe, so the handful of outfits he had was all he’d been wearing for three weeks. For a royal, that was unheard of. Even Dean, who never seemed to care what he was wearing at any given time, had chests full of suits and other garments, rarely wearing the same thing twice. Cas had chests full of his army garb, but those had been sitting in storage gathering dust. He desperately wanted to ask after them, to get them brought up to the room so he could wear some of his most comfortable trousers and linen shirts, but he didn’t dare mention it. He hadn’t talked to Dean about the possibility of returning to the battlefield yet, and he wasn’t sure he  _ wanted _ to ask. If it were Zachariah, he would demand that Cas stop his little ‘hobby _ ’ _ and act like the royalty he was born into, and he didn’t want to hear the same thing from Dean and King John.

He sighed and turned to Dean in an attempt to ignore his frustration, only to find his husband staring at him. “Dress casually. I don’t want to attract too much attention.”

Cas just stared at him blankly. “Dean… I’m an angel in a human kingdom.”

“Hey, we have angels in the capital.”

“How many?”

Dean bit his lip and looked away. “Two or three.”

“I don’t think casual is going to work.”

“Not with that attitude,” he muttered, and Cas, not wanting to argue, just shrugged and dug through his wardrobe for his most unassuming outfit. A pair of brown wool breeches, a mismatched vest to go over his shirt, and his plainest jacket. He turned towards Dean and gestured to himself. “Will this do?” Dean smirked and looked him up and down, a comment poised on his lips. “Nevermind.”

“Oh, come on. I was just going to say you looked good!”

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

Walking outside the palace with only six men to guard them was the strangest thing he’d experienced yet. The last time he was forced away from the battlefield to attend a brothers wedding, he wasn’t allowed to leave the palace at all, let alone with so few guards. Even traveling by carriage in the capital required a dozen mounted guards surrounding him at all times. But here he was, getting introduced to their handful of guards by name.

“This is Benny.” Dean pulled the large man into a handshake. “He’s the head of the guard. Benny, this is Cas.”

“It’s an honor,” he replied in a thick accent, giving Cas a respectful bow.

Dean rolled his eyes and clapped the man on his back. “I grew up with Benny and he’s a good friend.”

“Friend is a generous word,” Benny quipped with a drawl.

Dean smiled widely and gestured to the much smaller man beside him. “This is Garth. Don’t let his size fool you. He’s a scrappy guy. Then we have Lee and Jesse, with Gordon and Adam bringing up the rear.”

After a few minutes acquainting himself with Dean’s usual band of guards, they left the castle grounds. When Cas first traveled by carriage through the bustling streets, he had been amazed at the amount of life he saw. Zachariah had always talked about Winchester like it was a slum and teeming with garbage, but it was a bustling city just like any other he’d been to on his campaigns. There were businesses, people chatting with friends, families ambling through the streets, and young children playing in fields.

Side by side, with Benny and Garth flanking them and the others following behind, they made their way through to the main square. He had expressed interest in the market back in their first week of marriage, having never personally been to one. No son of Zachariah’s would be caught dead mingling with commoners, and when he was in the army he simply didn’t have the time.

He didn’t know what to expect, but warm smiles and handshakes weren’t it. Even in the palace, his father expected people to grovel before him, kissing his feet and bruising their knees in an attempt to hit the floor the fastest. Their low bows always bothered him, and the easy comradery of the military was like a breath of fresh air in comparison. Here, Dean easily walked up to the nearest stall and chatted with the red-cheeked woman selling freshly picked berries and jars of preserves. Castiel waited on the sidelines, guarded by both Gordon and Adam, and getting odd looks from those who walked by.

While he was a little uncomfortable with the attention he was drawing, he recognized it could be worse. He tucked his wings into his back, aware that he was taking up twice as much space as everyone else, and approached the stall, his curiosity winning out over his apprehension of the crowd. After sidestepping a few villagers, he was at his husband's side, and Dean immediately laced their fingers together before introducing him to the woman. She gushed about what a handsome pair they made and immediately started pushing jars of colorful jams into his arms. He took them, a little shocked at the kind gesture, and before he could even think of trying to pay her, she shooed them away.

Dean laughed at the look on his face as he balanced five jars in his arms. “I think she likes you.”

“She wouldn’t let me pay,” he grumbled sullenly. She hadn’t even given him the time to reach into his money pouch, and seemed offended that he would even offer. He stood there dumbfounded while Dean watched in amusement, until his husband finally pulled him away from her stand. “Is it always like this?”

“It didn’t use to be. Five years ago, people were dropping to their knees and bowing in the middle of the street, but I’m here so often now that they barely even notice me. Most of the time people let me pay, but Molly never will. She provides all the preserves for the palace and we pay well, so she’s always trying to give me stuff.” He took two of the jars, popped one open, and dipped his fighter inside before bringing it to his mouth with a moan. “God, her stuff is the best. Makes for a good midnight snack, too.”

“King John just lets you…” he gestures around the market with his free hand, “...wander around?”

Dean shrugged. “I have to bring the guard, but yeah. I used to just climb out my window and sneak down here when I was younger, and once he figured out I’d keep doing it no matter how much he threatened to lock me in the dungeon, he put the detail on me.” He offered Cas the jar. “Want some?”

He shook his head and glanced around. While they were drawing attention, people were largely going about their day. “This is strange.”

Dean grinned and dipped his finger in the jam once more before replacing the lid. “It's good public relations too. When I’m King, they’ll be more comfortable with me, right? They’ll come to me with their problems and since I know them better, I can  _ help _ them better.”

“That’s smart.”

“See Ellen over there?” He gestured to a woman looking around an herb stall. “She runs the tavern. Best meat pies you’ll ever have, and she doesn’t take anyone's shit.” He looked around some more until he found a thin man with a strange haircut. “That’s Ash, he works as a scribe.” He moved on to more and more people. A tall, gaunt man with dark hair who was their town doctor. Pamela, who ran the apothecary, the man who made candles, the cobbler, and the milliner. Dean knew the name of farmers, shopkeepers, cooks, and nearly all of the children they came across as they continued through the town. It was shocking that the Crown Prince was so connected to his people, but for Dean, it made sense.

Dean led him to nearly every stall, introducing Cas as his husband, and people fell over themselves to offer him their wares despite his polite refusal. He walked away with pieces of silk, food, a new ring, and a dagger, all of which the villagers refused to accept his money for while Dean just laughed at him and his discomfort.

“I feel horrible for taking all of this,” he mumbled, finally out of the market and heading for the training grounds.

“It just means they like you.”

“You could have helped me, you know. I saw you pay for that mince pie.”

“They’re just excited I finally got hitched. It’ll die down.”

Castiel didn’t believe it, especially since Dean said they still tried to give him free things, and he’s been living there his entire life. “If you say so.”

Dean threw his arm around Cas’s shoulder, sending a few of his gifts teetering in his grip. “Trust me, this is a good thing.”

“They  _ were _ very welcoming.”

“See? You already fit right in.”

Two of the guards offered to carry Cas’s gifts, and once his arms were free, Dean went right back to holding his hand. The training grounds were next to the southern gate, so it was nearly an hour's walk before they heard the clanging of sword meeting sword. A smile lit up Dean’s face at the sound, and he practically dragged Cas as he picked up his pace to a near-jog.

“I used to train with the soldiers when I was younger. Picked up so many swear words my mom nearly had a heart attack.” He laughed at the memory. “My dad brought in a private trainer after that, but the damage was already done.”

“Your cursing doesn’t bother me. It actually put me at ease when we first met.”

Dean ducked his head to cover up his flushed cheeks. “I was so nervous I don’t even know what I said.”

“Nothing bad, I assure you.” They finally entered the courtyard, and they could see the newest recruits practicing with dull swords. There were areas for archery, calvary training, and space for men with pikes practicing their charges. They seemed to be separated by size, and the largest of them were grouped off to the side, practicing drills with their swords. “This isn’t too different from the way we do things.”

Dean elbowed Cas in the side. “Maybe we should get in there and show them how it’s done.”

“I wouldn’t want to show up their own prince. It would absolutely crush their morale.”

Dean sucked in a surprised breath and turned to him with a glare. “Hey! I could totally kick your ass.”

Castiel didn’t attempt to hide his smirk. “You could certainly try.”

“You son of a…” he took a step closer to Cas and poked him in the chest. “I might not have been in the military, but I could probably beat you in hand-to-hand.”

“I’m sure you could, honey.”

“Don’t you _ honey _ me!” Dean took a step closer and lowered his voice. “If you hadn’t fucked me this morning, I’d kick your ass right now.”

“We can test your theory another time, then.”

“It’s not a theory!”

“Dean!” A young redhead came running out of the barracks, headed straight for them. “I can't believe you didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“You’re so lucky.” Dean poked Cas in the chest once more before turning to the fast-approaching woman. “This is Charlie, she—oof!”

She crashed into him, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. “I haven’t seen you for weeks, and you didn’t even think to tell me you were going to drop by? I’ve never been so insulted in my life! If you think for one minute—”

“Charlie…”

“—I’m going to let you use your new husband as an excuse to—”

“Charlie.”

“—ditch me for a whole month, then you have another thing coming. You better beg for forgiveness, because—"

“Charlie, I can’t breathe.”

Cas watched them go back and forth with a smile on his face. He’d heard about Charlie, Dean’s best friend and their Master of Archery, and knew from what Dean had told him about her that they might be at it for a long time. His attention was drawn to the clanging of swords, and he watched them move in familiar patterns. The more he watched, the more he missed the weight of a sword and the feel of a leather-bound hilt in his palm. He wished he had his sword, but it was still packed away with the rest of his armor, gathering dust.

With a backward glance at Dean, who was still being smothered in a hug, he walked over, intent on observing the lesson. Two of the guards followed him, their eyes peeled and ready to protect him at any moment. It felt odd to be the one being guarded, and if anything, it made him miss his old duties even more. He itched to talk to Dean about it, to see if he could be involved in the military once again, but he didn’t want to overstep. He was still trying to figure out his place in Winchester, and while King John seemed to like him well enough, he didn’t want to rock the boat.

The boys who were training looked to be just out of childhood. They were small and thin, arms and legs too long for them to know what to do with. It reminded him of how he was the first time he held a practice sword. Cas’s training had been a trial by fire. Michael had brought him into the garden long before he would have been considered old enough to train, handed him a wooden sword, and started his attack. Hours later, when he came back to the palace with a sprained wrist and covered in bruises, his mom had merely tutted at him and sent him to the doctor. It was a month later that he landed his first blow, hitting Michael in just the right spot that his sword arm went numb and he was unable to continue. While cruel, his training had given him an edge above the others when he entered the military, drawing the attention of his Aunt Naomi and allowing him to rise in rank faster than the others. Commander Naomi had never shown him any kind of favoritism, even going as far as punishing him the one time he accidentally called her Aunt Naomi, but she did allow him the space to grow, and because of her, he had become the Chief Strategist.

He watched as the boys sparred under the supervision of an older man with salt and pepper hair and sharp eyes. Despite their size, they were doing quite well. Their form was shaky, and a few of them struggled to swing the heavy swords, but he could tell they would be fine soldiers in a few years. It was just as he moved towards the older boys practicing with pikes that he heard a sword clang to the ground on the other side of the training arena. He turned to see a cavalry rider staring at him in utter disbelief.

Cas almost glanced behind himself to see who caught the man's attention so fully, but it was clearly him, and the man was now heading over. He had the urge to reach for his angel blade, but it was packed away with his sword. Regardless, he could sense no ill intent from this man, and he had always trusted his instincts. His guards stepped in front of him, ready to draw their swords, but he put his hands on their shoulders, forcing them aside. They were no match for his strength, and could only move where he made them. When the man was close enough to reach out and touch, he fell to his knees in the dirt, drawing attention from most of the courtyard.

Not used to people bowing to him, he could feel the skin of his face heating to a deep blush. “Please,” he began, keeping his voice low so as to not draw even more attention to himself. He glanced at Dean, but he was turned away, still deep in conversation with Charlie. “Please rise.”

The man looked up at him, awe on his face and knees still firmly planted in the rocky dirt. “It is an honor, sir.”

He nearly begged for the man to rise, but there were already others on their way, more men from the cavalry unit, all with shocked expressions, and he knew he wasn’t getting out of this. Whatever  _ this _ was. It wasn’t until he recognized one soldier, a vague recollection of the mustached man fighting alongside him, that he realized what was happening. These men were all older, already into adulthood, and held the stance of men who had experienced the horrors of battle. Battles  _ he  _ would have participated in.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

Charlie was still talking to Dean, going on and on about the spy ring and their newest, most incompetent recruit. He felt bad for not telling Cas the whole truth about her job, but that was a conversation to be had away from the recruits, and he hadn’t expected Charlie to be there at all, let alone accost him when he was trying to give Cas a tour of the training area and surrounding barracks. It wasn’t a complete lie. Charlie  _ did _ train the new archers on occasion, but her real job was coding letters and managing the recruits. She  _ loved _ her job, and she was probably the one responsible for finding out who the Angel of Thursday was and bringing him here. If he remembered after she was done with her current rant, he’d have to ask about it.

“And he just stared at me, as if he’d never considered that he might have to go through torture training. Who does he think we're going up against? What does he think the demons will do if they catch him? Pat him on the back and send him off with some bread and cheese? Ridiculous. I don’t know who you and the King have out there recruiting, but I’m going to have to have a conversation with them about their tactics. What am I supposed to do with someone who—”

He nodded along, mostly tuning her out. They had been there for fifteen minutes and she’d already gone through three subjects, and if this is how she was when he hadn’t seen her for a month, he’s never going to do  _ that _ again. It wasn’t his fault the preparations for their wedding had taken so much out of him, and it definitely wasn’t his fault that they extended their honeymoon for a few more days… That was Cas’s fault. If he wasn’t so sexy, and  _ fuck _ , Dean couldn’t keep his hands off those wings. So soft and warm, the perfect blanket to cover him and keep off the chill of night. The perfect handhold while fucking Cas, or being fucked by him. Dean wasn’t picky.

He must have zoned out because Charlie snapped her fingers in front of his face and jerked him out of the plans he had begun forming for later that night. “Huh?”

“You might want to rescue your husband.”

Dean frowned and glanced back to where he had left him when he and Charlie had wandered off, but Cas was long gone. He spun, eyes frantically seeking Cas out and eventually landed on a large crowd of recruits. He took off at a jog, cursing in his head the entire way. He shouldn’t have left him alone, but Charlie had made it clear that she had some important business to discuss with him, and he hadn’t known that that information was going to be followed by a long-winded rant.

Dean signaled his guards to follow, ready to rescue Cas if needed. He was sure nothing bad was happening, the soldiers wouldn’t  _ dare _ , but he couldn’t see Cas’s dark hair over the top of the crowd and it was making him nervous. They hadn’t been apart for nearly three weeks, and the one time they were separated, Cas got mobbed by people eager to meet the prince’s new husband. They pushed their way through the crowd, blind to everything but reaching Cas, and when he finally made his way to the middle, it was to find Cas standing tall and dignified, flanked by his two guards and Cain, their Master Swordsman. He was the picture-perfect prince except for his flushed face, which was so red that Dean was sure Cas was about to die of embarrassment. It was only then that he heard what they were saying.

“—used your wings to block the blow. If you hadn’t been there, I’d be dead. You must let me repay you.”

Cas closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “There is no need to thank me.”

“My older brother said you took out an entire squadron of demons, single-handed!” another man piped in.

This seemed to be the signal for the rest of the men to shout their tales.

“—worked the field of a family he had saved so they could eat—”

“—gave his last loaf of bread to a soldier who—”

“—redirected the attack, and if he hadn’t—”

“—said that he threw a dagger fifty yards and hit a demon square in the chest—”

“—escorted him back to his village and didn’t accept payment when they—”

Soon, there were too many people talking to be able to understand it all. Cas hadn’t even noticed his approach, focusing all of his attention on his feeble attempt to get them to stop, but it was no use. Everyone was talking over each other, and as the situation sunk in, Dean had to hold back his smile. Of course his husband would have found himself a fan club. And now, once word got out who exactly Dean was married to, it was only a matter of time before Cas would be getting letters in the post. Dean couldn’t wait.

The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to laugh. Dean had figured out pretty quickly that the last thing Cas wanted was attention. Any time he talked about rumors he’s heard about Cas’s avenging angel alter ego, or asked him questions about what he did as Chief Strategist, Cas would deflect and try to downplay his importance as much as he could. Dean, of course, wouldn’t let that happen. He would get Cas to accept compliments and praise of it was the last thing he did.

And even funnier, his soldiers seem to like Cas more than they liked their own Crown Prince. Dean was almost a fixture on the training grounds. He’s been attending sessions with his dad for years before he started sneaking out and coming down on his own. The trainers and the soldiers mostly ignored him, and it’s been  _ years _ since he last had a trainee bow to him. But Cas? Not only was he now married to the Crown Prince, but he was also the  _ Angel of fucking Thursday.  _ He was a  _ very  _ big deal.

At that moment, Cas’s eyes swiveled to Dean’s, and his expression morphed from embarrassment to relief. He pushed his way to Dean, soldiers following behind him still shouting his accolades, and grabbed Dean’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Dean grinned. “Didn’t you want to see the barracks?”

Cas leaned in and hissed in his ear. “If you don’t get me out of here right now, I’ll never speak to you again.”

“But I wanted to hear what else they have to say!”

“Let’s go.” He pulled Dean along, weaving them out of the crowd and forcing the guards to run to catch up.

Dean could do nothing but laugh as they left the arena and headed in the direction of the castle. “Well, that was fun.” Cas glared at him, and he was really growing to like that stormy look on his husband’s face. “Oh, come on. They liked you! In fact, I think they like you more than me. Last month Cain actually took my sword away.”

Benny snorted. “You tried to goad a fifteen year old into a duel.”

“I didn’t know he was fifteen! He was huge!” Dean turned to Cas. “I thought he was at least twenty-five. The kid had a beard, I swear.”

Cas squinted at him. “Do you often fight children?”

Dean couldn’t keep the whine out of his voice. “Cas! Don’t listen to Benny. He wasn’t even there.”

Cas laughed and spread his wing to enfold Dean, shrouding him in warmth. Dean leaned back and pressed into the softness, savoring the feeling. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Dean stuck his tongue out at Benny, sucking it back in before Cas could see him. “So… What do you think?”

“It reminded me of home. I wouldn’t mind returning some time.”

Dean held back his sigh of relief. He’d been trying to give Cas time, to let him get his feet under him before he brought up the possibility of Cas getting back on the field. That was part of the reason Dean wanted to give him a tour of the training grounds in the first place, to test the waters. It couldn’t be full-time, since he had new responsibilities now, but he had seen the look on Cas’s face when he looked around the training grounds. He missed it, and Dean knew Cas wasn’t going to say anything.

Dean would do anything to make Cas happy, even if it meant Cas being back on the battlefield. Against all odds, their arranged marriage was going great so far, and it seemed like Cas was really beginning to like him. If that was the case, the feeling was mutual.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for not writing the honeymoon! If you wanted to imagine what it was like, just imagine two grown men bickering constantly and having a ton of sex.


End file.
